If You Love Me Let Me Go (Scömìche)

2

I was numb, but as I felt my hands being restrained by metal cuffs, some sense came back to me and I struggled to get free. I thought of Kirstie, Dylan, my parents... I had to escape for them. But that is until I felt something cold press against my forehead. It was the gun.

"Don't. Fight." He hissed, making me stay still. My heart was beating wildly, hammering against my chest so hard I was sure Psycho could hear it, but he didn't say anything. Instead, he fastened the handcuffs and pulled me towards the big, black SUV with tinted glass. Great. No one could see inside. But before he opened the car door, he pulled out a dark cloth from his pocket, blindfolding me with it, making sure I couldn't see anything. I tried to move, desperately, but as I was restrained it wasn't exactly easy and he tied the fabric with no difficulty, before I heard the door open and he pushed me onto the what felt like leather seats in the back of the car.

"What the fuck," I whispered. There was a click. It sounded like a gun, and I shut my mouth immediately.

"One more sound and I'm gonna have to scratch your remains from my brand new car."

I just felt myself nod, sinking into the soft but cold seats. My heart stopped again when I heard a second, unfamiliar voice.

"Who is that?!" Guy Two whisper shouted.

"A hostage, you dumbass."

"Yes, I fucking see that! Is he- Why did you bring him?"

There was no answer. Maybe I hadn't heard it, or maybe he'd shrugged. Either way, it was a question I wouldn't get an answer to.

After turning the car in so many different directions, bumpy roads and other uneven territories, it finally stopped and I heard doors being opened before someone dragged me out of the car, not caring if he was too harsh or hurt me.

"Bring him upstairs," Psycho said, and soon I was being dragged into a building, stumbling around until the guy picked me up and carried me somewhere. I was sat on a hard chair, the blindfold still on as he was tying my hands behind my back, to that chair, and then continuing with my legs. Finally, he took the blindfold off.

The room I was in was bright and open - there were windows on every wall, making it light-flooded. There was a gray couch at the end of the room, a flatscreen tv, a blue rug, dark wooden furniture and, of course, my matching chair. The man who I assumed had brought me here was standing next to me, observing me, alert to whip out his gun anytime. He was tall, without a doubt taller than my 5'10'' of height, blonde and had sharp facial features. If you ignored the bulletproof vest, he looked as if he had jumped right out of a Calvin Klein commercial.

"So..." He began, his eyes burning into me. Although he definitely had the features of a model, his aura shone dark and made me very uneasy. He could kill me any second. "What are we supposed to do with a pretty boy like you?"

"Excuse me?!" I retorted before I could even think through the possible consequences.

"Oh, your voice." His grin was disgusting. "I bet you'd sound amazing in the bedroom."

The man's intentions soon became very clear to me and I decided that before any one of them could rape me, I would rather be shot.

"Fuck you," I growled.

"Yes, baby." He leaned down so his lips were only an inch away from my ear. I could feel his warm breath. "And I want you to watch."

Oh no. Here we go.

"Don't say that you wouldn't like that, I know you would. I saw the way you looked at me."

I shuddered at the thought. Nope. I'd rather die.